


pikachus and flowers

by jemdeuk



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:53:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemdeuk/pseuds/jemdeuk
Summary: instead, when rosé starts her usual game of seeing how much space she can fill on her forearm with blue-colored roses in the time span of her geometry class, jisoo replies in purple ink, filling in all the spaces she left empty with [her] own hearts and pikachus. . . rosé could, should just ask her. but she does what she does best, and doesn't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i seriously need to learn to stop going off on long ass tangents when writing my introductions i'm sorry if this chapter is a little dull, i'm not too pleased with it but w/e
> 
> also i actually finished this over a month ago before even starting steps to your heart and it was meant to be a quick one-shot... until it turned into over 10,000 words that i got too lazy to edit lol my b
> 
> to make it easier for both you guys and myself i split it into three parts and will just edit it at my own pace that way, so i hope y'all enjoy

****For as long as Rosé can remember, she has always had an interest in skin markings.

And by skin markings, she doesn't mean things like beauty marks or freckles that for usually no reason at all you come into the world already bearing, nor does she mean the type of scars that mar the surface of your skin as a result of some sort of trauma. Those are too long-lasting, too permanent, and what she means is much, much more temporary than that.

They come in all sorts of forms and colors — from sloppy shapes to intricate drawings, from small words to long paragraphs, from the first color on the spectrum wheel to the very last. If you're lucky, they can last for over a week. If you're not, they can be gone by the next morning. If you're like the average of the population, they usually begin to fade after about three days.

Truthfully, there hasn't even been a day in Rosé's life that she didn't see them on the skin of fleeting strangers at least once. It's because they're everywhere, literally always. For example, she sees them on the arms and legs of people mostly in the summertime when it's too hot to wear jeans and sweaters. She sees them as she peruses the aisles at the market when the sleeves of another grocer happens to slip far enough down their wrist in their stretch to reach for something on a higher shelf. She even sees them every week when she goes to church. It's become somewhat like a game of I Spy, but by herself.

And it's thanks to her parents that Rosé had ever discovered these marks, of course (some human science thing about how children learn basic things such as talking or walking from their parents by just having watched them). And what she had seen ever since she was young ranged from simple hearts drawn on her mother's wrist to both her parent's names swirled in cursive on the palm of each other's hands, or to odd characters resembling weirdly-shaped stick figures (to which she later found out was Hangul and  _not_  a game of Hangman) dotted across the space above their knees. Whether it be just that one small heart only half a centimeter wide on their skin or more shapes and writing than Rosé could even count on all the fingers of both of her hands combined, these marks were always there. And each time she found a new one, it never ceased to amaze her.

But despite her five-year old self's quickly growing fascination with them, she can't seem to recall ever directly asking about them. In her defense, it was something that she had already grew up recognizing, just not  _knowing_. She kept her questions to herself because it did not really ever seem like something that little Rosé  _should_  be asking about for the fear of asking a possibly obvious question. These marks were simply something had always been normal to her, something she had always seen and never a day that she had not. She knew what they looked like, how they felt, and how long they lasted, but she never knew how they got there or why they even existed. But still after that all, she still never allowed herself to do more than admire it quietly with only touch and sight, and never voice.

Of course, she was curious about it. More than that, even. So much that eventually, she sort of just began to figure it out herself — piece by piece.

And she's pretty proud to admit that it was mostly through observation.

Rosé remembers that when her mother would hold her in her arms as a toddler, she would just gently trace each one with her small fingers, silently committing the exact shape and location of the mark to memory before running over to her father and looking for the same mark. This was the way how she had learned that whatever was written on her mother always,  _always_  seemed to match what was written on her father.

That doesn't mean she wasn't ever curious, though. And because she never dared to speak these curiosities aloud, it eventually had bled into some sort of petty envy.

Rosé remembers how she would sit and stare at her own flawless skin, pressing the tips of her fingernails into it with just enough pressure so that when she lifted her hand, crescents would have formed beneath it. She learned that the longer she kept her nails there, the longer the mark would embed itself in her flesh and last, so she would keep at it for as long as she could. But then, just like that, ranging from a few seconds to no more than five minutes tops, it would be gone. The marks were temporary, just like the real ones, but maybe  _too_  temporary, and would leave her with nothing else but her clear skin and her confusion once again.

In those times, all the little girl had wanted to know — without herself having to ask, of course — was why everyone else seemed to have these letters and pictures on them and she  _didn't_. And when the world did not telepathically send her the answer like she hoped it would, she had let herself assume that perhaps it was an adult thing, like driving cars and paying taxes. So she kept quiet, and instead told herself to wait.

When little Rosé had turned six, she started her first year of school. It was there when she realized her speculations were wrong when she saw them there, too. She saw them not only dotted across the wrists of her teachers, but also now on the arms of her peers. Peers, as in kids who were the same age as her who had the marks while she didn't.

There was a great distinction between the marks the kids had and the marks she saw on her parents and teachers. The marks she saw on her friend Jocelyn's arm were more like doodles, just squiggly lines and random colors that together made no sense. In fact, it looked like the drawings the kids in her class made when, for the first time, their teacher handed them a box full of colorful non-toxic markers, pens, and supplies of the sort on the first day and told them to draw a picture of things they liked. Then, it sort of clicked.

The teacher had allowed them time to draw with these supplies at least once everyday. From her, Rosé had also learned how to pick up and properly hold a pencil, how to use it so that the graphite formed lines and shapes on paper, how to write out her own name, and, once she had learned the main difference between a pen and pencil, how to press the former to her own skin to recreate the exact marks she lacked.

Skin, she found out then, was just the same as paper. It was probably even better; the ink flowed from the pen even easier when placed against the back of her hand than on a sheet in her notebook. Remembering just how excited she had been then, it makes sense that the first thing she wrote on the palm of her right hand, just below her pinky finger, was the only thing she knew how to even write at the time: her name.

_Roseanne._

Something as sentimental as that can definitely be considered memorable, which is why Rosé finds it so easy to recall now. However, something even more memorable to her than that came not too long after, precisely when she had woke up for school the next morning.

It was on her left hand, an oddity considering she herself was left-handed and couldn't even right legibly with it yet let alone her non-dominate one if she tried. It was in the same exact spot as where she had written but as if mirrored, and the strangest thing about it was that it wasn't even in English.

In fact, Rosé wasn't sure at all what language it was in. She had thought that perhaps it wasn't even a language, maybe a weird-looking doodle or a hurried scrawl done by a person who wasn't even looking. Regardless, she couldn't read it. But it seemed familiar enough to the stuff seen on her parent's skin sometimes and so for the first time, she decided to ask them about it.

Everytime she thinks about it, Rosé can't help but laugh to herself at the memory of her parent's reaction. She wasn't sure if it had been shock or excitement that had graced their faces, but either way she did not receive an immediate answer. It took a moment of silence and Rosé, who wasn't sure why, didn't dare to ask twice. When the answer finally came, though, she was even more confused than when she had first found the mark. Because what came from her mother's lips wasn't a word she recognized, but instead, she explained, was a name. In Korean.

"It says  _'Jisoo'._ "

 

* * *

 

After that incident, her parent's spoke no further of it, and Rosé asked nothing more. Reason not being because they were upset with her for bringing it up — in fact, they actually even looked  _happy_  about it.

(After the initial surprise, anyway.)

But any more talk of it between them stopped there and Rosé fell back into her usual habit of not asking. She didn't know the reason at the time, but now that she's older, she understands; it was something that just simply should not be explained, and instead learned on her own. She understands it now, all from experience.

And with that knowledge came the discovery of its literal name, "soul marks."

She wasn't completely far off in her speculations. Anyone who has a living soulmate is granted this sort of ability, the power to transfer whatever you write on your own skin to theirs. And according to this, this Jisoo person is her soulmate. Rosé has always seen herself as a typical, girly, romantic genre-loving person and so this revelation was indeed an amazement to her. It even made her more determined to get to know this Jisoo in anyway that she could.

But even before her resorting to Google-searching this phenomenon, she had herself learned most of what she found when more small doodles and words written in Korean — stuff she did not do herself — would continuously appear on her. And as a result of her curiosity, she had already discovered that whenever she would write something on herself, these mysterious things would appear more frequently, as if in response to what she had put (which she later found out they were). But because of this likely language barrier between her and whoever was writing things on her left arm or sometimes even high up on her legs, covered by her skirt, they could only properly communicate with each other using pictures.

And judging by what most frequently appeared on her skin, this person named "Jisoo" really liked Pokémon, dogs, and the color purple. And while the name was a unisex one—also according to her various internet searches—she had just assumed Jisoo was a "he."

When she was eight, Rosé had started to become desperate for actual back-and-forth words between herself and this Jisoo person and so she asked her parents to teach her how to read their home-spoken language. Since she was already mostly fluent in it vocally, it wasn't as hard for the determined, elementary school-leveled girl who was adamant at practicing it for at least an hour everyday once she finished with her other priorities. And immediately after only her second lesson, going back to the same thing from when she was six, Rosé started with the first (and only) thing she had learned how to spell in Korean.

_Hello, my name is Chaeyoung._

The greeting had received a reply almost instantly, and even today it never ceases to amaze Rosé every time she gets the chance to watch the letters magically appear on her skin.

_Hi, I am Jisoo! aka Chichyu._

With the words also came a poorly drawn (although still cute) Pikachu doodled beneath it. Replying took Rosé a little bit of help from her parents, but once she understood the words a wide smile had bloomed across her face. She then picked up the blue pen she made her parents buy her just for these special conversations and, pressing it to the space beneath where she had written her own name, added two more words, a flower, and a heart beneath it.

_aka Rose._


	2. part ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just gonna say something first: a lot of this is probably inaccurate. i've never been into kpop as much as i am now with blackpink, and google wasn't too particular helpful with the insider secrets of trainee life so i'm pretty much guessing my way around.
> 
> and after rosie's latest solo magazine's interview on her, my background here with her and music isn't too accurate either but this is a work of fiction so sue me
> 
> anyways, im done defending myself for now so i hope you guys enjoy this chapter more than the last

Rosé likes music.

Actually, that's not true. The word "likes" is a massive understatement.

At the age of fourteen she has already mastered playing the piano, she's completely in love with her guitar, and she sings in both her church's and school's choir. Not once in her entire life has she ever consider her love for music a  _hobby_. To her, it's her  _dream_. Nothing else comes remotely close.

But if we are talking about her hobby, then she would probably have to say it's drawing.

She draws so much and in every spare chance she gets that in total, she has to have at least ten sketchbooks in her possession. And around the sixth book, she had found it more efficient to dedicated one entire shelf in her bookshelf to only them. If you were to flip through each completed page of every one of these books, you could even see her gradually improving process through the years. Drawing isn't her passion like music is, but she loves it.

And really though, she has to thank Jisoo for that one.

Because despite her collection of sketchbooks that, if stacked up on top of each other, is taller than her own dog, it's ironic that the number of filled pages doesn't even compare to the place where most of her drawings took place. In fact, most of these doodles haven't even been on actual paper. Ever since her revelation at the age of six, Rosé has considered her own skin her only real canvas.

Her usual boredom in class has — and continues to — almost always lead to her doodling all over her hands and arms to pass the time. She's not the only one with ink blotting her skin, of course, but the amount of tiny words and drawings she sees on the arms of her classmates never seem to come even close to amount of space Rosé takes up on her own self. And if Jisoo minds it, he has never said or shown anything to imply so. Instead, when Rosé starts her usual game of seeing how much space she can fill on her forearm with blue-colored roses in the time span of her geometry class, Jisoo replies in purple ink, filling in all the spaces she left empty with his own hearts and Pikachus.

Sometimes, he even leaves emoticons and messages of encouragement, jokes, or puns in Korean that Rosé doesn't quite understand. She always laughs anyway, and makes sure to let Jisoo know that with an  _lol_  or a weirdly drawn emoticon scribbled somewhere around it.

She feels as though they get each other even though they have never actually seen each other, even if it's just through sloppy, broken sentences in Korean and drawings of cartoon rodents. It's fun and even a little bit heartwarming to know that Rosé has someone to talk to that can make her smile without even knowing it.

She enjoys talking to this Jisoo person, and she can only hope — really, truly  _hope_  — that the feeling is mutual.

 

* * *

 

One day, Rosé notices that Jisoo is beginning to fade, and so does the ink on Rosé's skin with him.

Maybe Rosé is being dramatic. Jisoo isn't completely gone, but his lengthy replies, jokes, and cute drawings of animals or Pokémon characters are beginning to shrink.

Literally.

Where Rosé would roll up her sleeves on a particularly hot day and find a Wobbuffet almost the size of her entire forearm with the Pokèmon's signature catchphrase scribbled beside it in bold letters and excessive exclamation points, she instead begins to find just small drawings that are no larger than the size of her own fingernail in its place. These seem to integrate themselves in their daily scrawls to each other and become the new usual until the amount of them, just like with the size, begins to slow down to only a single new drawing on her skin every other day. Then every two days. Then less and less, to the point where it becomes a rarity to find one.

It doesn't stop her from constantly anticipating and searching, however.

She starts to worry when she receives no response from Jisoo for several days. Eventually, she finds a tiny message on the inside length of her middle finger, right between her index, saying  _look on your thigh_. Before, Rosé would have had no difficulty locating anything Jisoo wrote to her. It was always too big, on too obvious spots that she couldn't have missed it if she tried. But now, she finds the drawing high up on her thigh on a spot no one but herself could see.

(Not unless she took off her pants in front of a public crowd, anyway.)

From then on, they begin to speak somewhat more frequently again (though still not as much as before), and she starts to notice something. Rosé finds all following marks only in inconspicuous spots, leaving her previously filled arms and legs completely devoid of any marks or blemishes. It's just like how she had discovered the mystery behind these soul marks when she herself makes the connection that Jisoo didn't want her messages to be seen anymore.

For a sentimental person such as Rosé, it's honestly really sad. And an even bigger hit to her self-esteem comes when the people at school eventually begin to notice her lack of marks.

She has always been more of the shy, quiet type of girl in class and so any form of extra, unwanted attention she garners has never seemed to slip by unnoticed by her. Among her peers, she definitely has built up a reputation for herself as a result of her markings. And really, she can't blame them; the amount of ink covering the expanse of her skin is always to the point where there is more purple and blue than anything else.

(Honestly though, she never minds the extra attention when it comes to this. She's proud of the back-and-forth she and Jisoo have, so haters be damned if she decides to come into school proudly wearing her Pikachu characters and roses.)

But when she begins to come back with not even a single blotch of color, it of course begins to spark some questions and extra stares from the drama-obsessed teenagers of her high school. Even though she feels her nerves stabbing at her underneath all the scrutiny, she says nothing and ignores it all for a while. She even swaps out her short-sleeved shirts for long-sleeves whenever she can, but something like that is hard to avoid when changing in the girl's locker room or for cheerleading practice. She also feels a bit funny when she decides to wear a cardigan in tank top weather to cover the fact that her skin is clear and flawless, and that she feels embarrassed about it. They must live in an odd world, indeed.

She lives in her perfect (far from it), feigned-oblivious bliss for about a week until someone works up the nerve to finally ask her. It's none of the kids who have been staring at her, though, since none of them would dare nor would she even feel the need to tell them. It's her friend, one of the other cheerleaders on her team and a fairly close classmate. She brings it up suddenly during a previously quiet study session with a couple of their other friends in the library, and immediately all of their attention is off of their work and instead on her.

Rosé shouldn't be surprised when it's asked and truthfully she isn't. She's been expecting this question from someone,  _anyone_  for days now, but she doesn't even know the answer herself. Why doesn't she have anymore soul marks? Really, she'd like to know the answer just as much as they do. But she doesn't say any of this. To her friends, she just feigns nonchalance and shrugs, and goes straight back to her work. No one presses her further.

She doesn't actually work, though. She spends the next hour staring blankly at the words on her textbook, unfocusing her eyes and watching the words blur together as the all-too-familiar feeling of confusion floods her mind.

The longer she lets herself fall back into her thoughts, the more it starts to make her realize how clingy she's being to this person that she has never even seen before. It's also giving her a headache and she can't think straight anymore, so she pushes her earbuds into her ears and presses play on her phone.

The music succeeds in washing away most of her worries and she spends most of the next few months drowning herself in it and practicing the guitar. The stares and murmurs eventually stop as well, and everything seems to go back to normal.

Everything but Jisoo.

Because even with Ed Sheeran or Jason Mraz singing softly in her ears, or her fingers plucking at her guitar strings until they're raw and calloused and she can still hear the chords to Taylor Swift's  _You Belong With Me_  playing even long after she's finished, she still can't seem to break the habit of checking every expanse of her skin everyday for a familiar drawing of a yellow mouse-looking creature with red cheeks and a letter W smile.

 

* * *

 

When Rosé is fifteen, she decides to chase her dreams.

Not like she hasn't been already doing that with her relentless hours spent into practicing her singing and playing ability and all, but she makes a pretty damn big leap in it. And thank  _God_  for everything, especially this, because she makes it.

Her first steps through the doors of the company are completely unfamiliar for her, not to mention the entire country as well. She has only ever visited her parent's native home a total of four times in her life, each time staying no longer than a week or two. But still, this is the first time she has ever stepped off the plane into South Korea that she no longer has to call it  _her parent's_  old home. Now, it's her own.

A year has passed and communication with Jisoo never did go back to normal. She'll admit, it actually made Rosé pretty lonely for a while just sitting around and waiting for a response to a joke she made days ago and she never really did get over it. Instead of dwelling on it, though, it gave Rosé more time to focus on her schoolwork and, eventually, realize what she really wanted to do: become a singer. But she's not gonna lie, the first thing she had thought of in the midst of her celebration with her family about her acceptance into the company was still Jisoo.

Because finally, after all these years, they were on the same ground. But who knows with the strict schedule Rosé has heard about for trainees that she herself will soon have if they would even ever get the chance to meet anytime soon. They're soulmates, so they should be bound to meet eventually, but what if it's not for another couple of years? What if she's old and her career is dwindling by then? What if she's already given up? She's signed a contract, she knows very well of the five-year dating ban she has willingly trapped herself under. It could be years, decades, until they meet.

So the next time she picks up her blue pen, she doesn't mention it to Jisoo. Instead, she presses it to a previously common canvas, her forearm, and draws a flower with a smiley face on it.

But that was before she left, hours ago before her flight. And now, when she's walking through the doors of the new company, her eyes flicker down to it and she hopes Jisoo has seen it. She hopes Jisoo likes it.

"You must be Roseanne?"

The sudden voice manages to pull Rosé out of her reverie successfully, though maybe even a little bit too much that she jumps in fright and nearly lets her phone slip out of her hand to the ground. She  _definitely_  wasn't expecting to be hearing such perfect English so soon after arriving here. Still, she lifts her shocked gaze to a shorter girl standing before her with her hands crossed on her chest and a friendly smile on her lips.

"Hi," she says, "I'm Jennie. I'm here to help show you around, and, you know," she flashes a teasing smirk, "be your first friend?"

She seems totally cool, from her full black outfit, dyed-blonde tips, and cat-like eyes that match the teasing smirk on her pink lips. Unlike Rosé, she seems like she totally fits in with the dark, mysterious, hip-hop vibe of their company and Rosé admittedly starts to feel a bit self-conscious. Nevertheless, she grins, completely overjoyed at the fact of having an English-speaking friend here. After all, her Korean isn't exactly the best it could be.

_But it's definitely better than it_ would _be,_  she thinks to herself,  _thanks to Jisoo._

She introduces herself with her first name first, then middle name in case Jennie would prefer calling her "Chaeyoung" (a name only her family and Jisoo call her), then last. Jennie shakes her head at the offer, saying instead, "I'm just gonna call you Rosie." Rosé genuinely laughs at that, her nerves starting to crumble away, and the two fall into an easy stride besides each other. The girl points out several important doors and hallways as they walk, introduces her to a few other workers and trainees, and walks Rosé through her schedule with her. She's definitely nice, and Rosé can already see a friendship blooming as they talk. But as Jennie extends her arm to point out another room Rosé's eyes inevitably notice the fact that it's free of any marks.

She can't help but let herself begin to think that perhaps the girl doesn't have a soulmate. It's a habit she needs to break, her automatically trying to search people for ink upon the first hour of knowing them. She immediately feels bad and attempts to ease her thoughts by assuring herself that her assumption isn't something that's too uncommon, and tries to stop her eyes from curiously scanning the rest of her skin to make sure.

Later, however, when they've reached the end of the tour and are just leisurely chatting about non-work related things, Jennie's eyes catch on the flower Rosé had drawn earlier on her arm. She says nothing at first, so Rosé doesn't even notice her staring as she continues to explain her life back home in Australia. Jennie's eyes flicker back and forth to the drawing every now and then as she nods along, and waits until the conversation has dulled to speak.

"Oh, yeah. About soul marks," Jennie starts, eying the flower with an unreadable expression on her face, "you can choose to hide it with makeup or keep it if you want, but it honestly doesn't really matter. Trainees sometimes do it just because of how most idols are required to do it anyway to hide it from their fans, you know? But we're only trainees for now, so it's whatever you want. Your call." And with that said and done, Jennie averts her eyes and Rosé never notices her prolonged gaze.

The latter doesn't saying anything and their conversation stalls for a moment as an odd feeling of sentimentality washes over her. She absently brings a hand up to trace the flower she drew on herself with the light brush of her finger pads against her warm skin, and her corners of her lips pull up into a sad smile.

She can't physically feel the ink, but knows it's there, and she lets herself wonder if Jisoo has seen it yet. If she knew that he has, perhaps it wouldn't be as hard for her now to just wipe the mark away.

 

* * *

 

For the next week, Rosé spends her time busily bouncing around various classes and teachers. Before any official schedule can be placed for her, she must undergo various nerve-wracking assessments in front of complete professionals in order to determine where she stands in terms of skill.

It's exhausting.

However, she also utilizes whatever free time she has that week to talk around and has somewhat sucessfully acquainted herself with very few trainees other than Jennie. Making friends here, as she quickly finds out, is going to be an incredibly hard task.

She doesn't have her shyness to blame this time, though. It's been days and yet every single time she enters a new room of trainees she finds herself being the constant center of attention. The stares aren't meant to be ostracizing (at least, that's what she hopes) but they're not exactly warm or curious either. They were critical, as if everyone was sizing her up and judging her.

She doesn't know why.

But then it doesn't take her long to figure it out.

She realized that it was like they were trying to see just how formidable of an opponent she, being the new "lion in the pen," would be to them. And really though, that shouldn't have been that big of a surprise. This is the music industry she's in now, not some high school chorus class like the one she took back at home. This isn't going to be all fun and happiness with a side of meeting new people and forging new bonds of friendship. This is a fight to survive, basically, and she has just thrown herself into it. She guesses that she was just hoping it'd be the former.

By next Monday she finds herself still not being able to feel relieved at all, even now that she's done with her "inspections." She knows from the minute she scans her freshly-printed schedule that the next undetermined amount of years of her life will definitely be tough. She swallows down a lump in her throat, brown orbs flickering anxiously around the paper in her hand until they catch on something purple.

It's just a happy face, small and simple and resting in the space just above the heel of her palm, around the bend of her thumb, and below her index finger. This may be the first time she's actually really looked at her own hand this whole day, but it definitely has to be new. Out of habit, her brain works to memorize its exact spot and every exact detail of it like she had done for her parents long ago. Her lips stretch into a wide smile.

It's not much, but at the same time it's enough, and she feels a strong surge of determination rush over her. She reads and re-reads the room number of her first lesson until it sticks in her mind. Once she can repeat it to herself without having to look, she folds it in fours and neatly tucks it into her pocket before striding off in the direction of her vocal class.

There, she meets the same set of critical eyes on her but pays it no mind. With an unusual sort of confidence brimming inside her that wasn't there before, she smiles brightly at whoever's eyes she manages to catch. This sort of thing repeats for the majority of the day, with every brush of her thumb against the mark bringing a happy surge through her that carries her through her already tough schedule. 

Eventually, she finds herself at the door of the fifth slot on her list: krump class.

Even with only her minimal time as a cheerleader to prove as some sort of experience for dancing, Rosé is fairly certain that this lesson will be one of her most difficult ones. She has already seen glimpses of what the other trainees could do, and it honestly frightens her.

Especially considering how she had walked straight into some sort of dance battle going on in the middle of the room.

There's still a few minutes before the lesson and the teacher hasn't arrived yet. The trainees are all pressed around the wall of the square-shaped room, some still straggling in behind her, as they cheer and whoop at something Rosé cannot yet see as a result of the taller bodies standing in front of her. A second later, one of those people moves over and Rosé can finally shuffle forward and get a glimpse of what is actually happening.

Yeah, she was right — definitely a dance battle.

It's not as serious as she thought it was, though, judging by the amused grins each of the four contenders in the middle are sporting. For the first time since she has entered the doors of this building, Rosé finally feels the tension that's usually in the air replace itself with genuine enjoyment.

She takes a moment to really look at the four trainees, noting that there are three guys and one girl standing face-to-face with each other with their arms crossed and chins lifted in mock intimidation. And when she drags her eyes over to get a glimpse at the girl, something in the world — either time or her own self, though to her it feel more like the former— seems to stop.

_She's really pretty,_  Rosé thinks, her jaw unconsciously falling open. The girl has long, black hair, the same color as Rosé's, and a snap back perched askew on the top of her head that Rosé can't help but think fits her very well despite not even knowing her yet. There's a jolly-filled grin on the girl's pink, heart-shaped lips, and as she lets out a laugh her dark eyes curve up into adorable crescents. In turn, Rosé can't help but feel infected by the sheer happiness that seems to radiate off of this girl and she couldn't fight the smile spreading across her lips if she tried. Then finally, her dark eyes shift over to the doorway and lands directly on Rosé. They hold their gazes for a moment, andRosé neither talks nor moves for the fear of breaking the incredibly magnetic spell that has fallen over them.

But then, it's broken.

"Okay, everyone!" A sudden voice booms from the door and instantly this moment, whatever  _moment_  it was between the two, is gone as the teenagers all move aside and drop into respectful bows at the teacher entering the room.

He quickly explains his plans for the class, and it doesn't take too long after for his eyes to land on an awkwardly standing Rosé.

"Ah, Australia," he says coolly, "you made it."

With these words she instantly feels all eyes on her again and whatever fun and warmth that was there just a moment ago dissipates like it was never there to begin with. She wrings her hands together timidly and nods her head in confirmation. After all the other scenarios she's gone through so far quite similar, if not exact, to this, she is used to just dropping her gaze to the floor and waiting for the stares to go away on their own. This time, though, she for some reason feels compelled to keep her head up and eyes straight ahead. Or, more specifically, at the girl with the snap back. And unsurprisingly, she meets her stare once more.

But what  _is_  surprising is that what greets her isn't the typical, cold, domineering eyes that she has been receiving since day one, but instead a look full of innocent wonder and curiosity. She even thinks she feels her heart starting to melt at the warmth swimming in those doe-like eyes, and it takes Rosé more than a moment for her to tear her captivated gaze away.

After the lesson (which wasn't too terrible considering she had something or someone to distract her from the scrutiny this time), Rosé finds her way to the elevator. She feels lightheaded, a feeling that has been lingering around her this entire past week, but while before it was because of her exhaustion this time she knows it's for a good reason. An image of heart-shaped lips and warm, brown eyes pop back into her mind. She doesn't know how a girl who she barely just met, let alone even know her name, could already affect her this much. Nonetheless she waves it off, thinking of it as nothing more than simple admiration.

(After all, she was really pretty, so it definitely makes sense.)

The elevator doors slide open before her, and a girl Rosé has never yet seen with short, black hair is standing inside. Rosé smiles politely, shuffling into the elevator beside her and pressing her next floor's corresponding button.

"Hello," Rosé greets with a respectful bow of her head. She suddenly feels awkward with the weight of her guitar's case strapped against her back, but the other only seems to stare at her curiously and perhaps a bit shyly. Her unexpected reaction is now second to that girl from her krump class.

"He-Hello," she replies in a quiet voice. Rosé can detect a bit of uncertainty in her voice, and she takes a moment to subtly look at her. She definitely doesn't look Korean, and so farRosé has only heard of one other foreign trainee here besides herself. She must be the Thai trainee.

Rosé's eyes slowly drop back down, ready to stare at the floor again, until they catch on the black marks written on the girl's arm. Immediately, her eyebrows shoot up and she stares, dumbfounded. They're soul marks, definitely, no doubt about it, and is the first she has seen on anyone other than herself in the company. She mulls over Jennie's previous words about them, and can't seem to tear her stare away. But if the owner of these marks notices, she does nothing to show it. 

After a few quiet moments the elevator dings, and Rosé exchanges small waves with the girl before the door slides back shut again behind her.

Huh, interesting day.

 

* * *

 

Later, she discovers that the girl with the marks name is Lisa, and she is indeed from Thailand. She knows this because they're both in the same Korean class, and are in fact the only two students there. Having been studying Korean for the past two years before Rosé had even arrived makes sense that her communication skills aren't completely dismal as she had said it was when she first started these classes. They talk a mixture of English and Korean, though mostly Korean as per the instructor's request, and Rosé finds out that she's actually really nice, funny, and the same age as herself. Rosé makes a second friend.

She also discovers that her first friend, Jennie, has a lot of other friends. And from these friends, Rosé finds herself being invited a few days later to a small outing after practice. She's pretty sure Jennie is just doing this so thatRosé can finally have more than two friends to talk to here, so she's thankful, albeit a bit embarrassed.

"It's nothing big," Jennie had explained, "just dinner."

Still, Rosé feels her nerves crawling as the time nears closer. Honestly though, she's been on edge since before she ever left home. It just seems more prevalent right now.

She meets Lisa and Jennie later when it's three minutes before the agreed meeting time by the entrance, and casts a fleeting glance around the four or five other trainees gathered there. All girls. They're already talking amiably with each other when she arrives, being the last of the group, and she feels like she's late even though she isn't. She lets out a shaky breath as she approaches and wipes her sweaty palms against her jeans. She feels Lisa poke at her arm when she reaches her, and Lisa gives her a reassuring smile. Rosé smiles back.

Lisa seems to be already well acquainted with the group unlikeRosébecause apparently, she left a pretty big, lasting impression literally the  _day_  she arrived with her "super rad dance moves," as Jennie had put it. In fact, the two even seem a lot closer than Rosé would have thought as she watches Lisa hop over to Jennie and immediately wrap her arms around the shorter girl's waist. Jennie pulls a face and immediately tries to free herself, but Lisa only giggles and tightens her hold.  _Cute,_  Rosé thinks to herself, smiling. To be honest, Lisa's touchiness was a bit awkward at first for the Australian girl, but very soon became something she had started to find a bit comforting. And judging by the small smile on Jennie's face that she seems to be trying very hard to hide as she wiggles around in Lisa's hold, she must think so, too.

Finally breaking free and composing herself, Jennie pushes her hair out of her face and breathes out an, "Okay, guys." She begins to introduce Rosé to the others, and she feels herself start to ease up with each friendly greeting she receives in return.

That is, until she locks eyes once again with a familiar dark-haired girl. And with Jennie's first words about her, she feels her heart stop as it leaps up into her throat and restricts her ability to talk or breathe.

"This is Jisoo," Jennie says to Rosé, and she doesn't seem to notice any of the change in behavior in her since she simply just continues down the line of the names to the last two girls remaining. But Rosé doesn't even hear her. Her ears have completely tuned out all outside noise, everything sounding muffled to her except for the loud, fast thumping of her heart. And as rude as it is, she can't help it; her brain is just too busy processing the name of one to comprehend the rest.

_Jisoo,_  she repeats to herself in her head with wide eyes.  _No way, wait,_ Jisoo _is a_ guy _..._

Rosé notes that Jisoo, for some reason, looks just as shocked as she is. She tries to break away from any further thoughts about her soul marks with the reminder to herself that "Jisoo" is just a common Korean name, but she still feels herself trail her thumb over the smiley face from this morning. Neither girl breaks the stare.

And just like before, someone else eventually does it for them. It's Jennie, and as she slings an arm over Rosé's shoulder, the distracted girl jumps. They all laugh at her, Jisoo included, and all other noise seems to return to Rosé's ears as they make their way out of the building and down the busy night streets of Hongdae.

She keeps her stare straight ahead of her as she walks, with Jisoo just so happening to be standing in front of her. Rosé uses this chance to try and study the individual dark strands of her hair as it shines with each passing streetlamp overhead, void of the usual cute cap she usually wears to their krump lessons. Besides Lisa, Jisoo, and herself, everyone else here seems to have dyed hair.

When Jisoo tips her head back to let out a hearty laugh at a mistake Lisa has made in her foreign-Korean speech, her hair flutters over her shoulders in beautiful waves and another passing light perfectly illuminates the joy and amusement on her face.

Yeah, Rosé starts to think that her natural black hair really,  _definitely_  suits her.

 

* * *

 

Jisoo, as Rosé later discovers, is actually really good friends with Jennie and, during this night, is making fast friends with Lisa. Which leavesRosé herself feeling a bit left out.

_Right, that's all,_  Rosé tells herself,  _you just really want to be friends with her, nothing else._

It's the truth — at least, she  _thinks_  so — but for some reason it can't help but feel like a lie to her as she sips her iced tea and watches Jisoo across from her over the rim of her glass. Her entire face seems to always light up whenever she breaks out into another infectious laugh, and Rosé smiles wide against her cup, not noticing that she's not even swallowing anymore.

Their eyes catch again for the umpteenth time that night. She feels the drink as it swims against her upper lip, and it starts to feel numb from the coolness of the ice the longer she keeps it there. However, she can't seem to care.

An elbow suddenly jabs into her arm. She turns, and immediately regrets it as she meets the mischievous eyes of a very amused Jennie.

"What?" Rosé mumbles bashfully, placing the drink back on the table and sinking into her seat. She swipes a napkin across the liquid left on her lips, and plays with the purple ink on her skin.

"You're so obvious, Rosie," Jennie teases with a laugh, making the girl frown.

"What? Obvious? No, no I'm not. Obvious about what? What're you talking about?" She rushes out defensively, obviously flustered. This only makes Jennie's grin grow even wider and Rosé even more embarrassed with herself, but the shorter girl just shrugs, saying no more as she takes a casual sip from her own glass.

When their food arrives, the flow of the conversation is momentarily disrupted as they eat. With nothing else to preoccupy her racing thoughts, Rosé uses this time to think to herself.

She's only just turned sixteen. She has never even yet experienced actual,  _romantic_  love for any other person besides the actors in her favorite dramas. So there's  _no way_  she can know if she even likes girls (again, not including that one small obsession she had over Jennifer Lawrence after watching the Hunger Games), let alone even boys. There's no way... 

... and so it _must_ be a possibility.

She looks up again at the sound of laughter, and grins when she sees Jisoo trying to attach a spoon to her nose and failing terribly.

Definitely a possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, to whoever did notice, i had to reupload this chapter due to my four-hour long efforts to edit this apparently not even saving and me having to redo it all hahaha it's all good now folks, see you in the next one


	3. part iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy this turned out a lot more suggestive than i intended it for but please this is a cute and fluffy and definitely pure fic featuring the softest of all the bad ass blackpink ships, chaesoo, ok

****Rosé doesn't say anything.

She doesn't say anything even when the four of them — Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo, and herself — grow closer. Closer, to the point of best friends. Closer, to the point where they get chosen for the next girl group all together. Closer, where they aren't even appointed a leader like most of the other groups because they simply don't need one.

And then closer, until Rosé one day finds herself carrying her bags of belongings through the front door of their new, shared apartment together. The two rooms they're given are of slightly different sizes, and they jokingly bicker with each other over it until they decide to break it up by a game of rock, paper, scissors. Surprisingly, Lisa wins herself and Rosé the bigger room leaving Jisoo and Jennie with the smaller, but it doesn't matter because they all know they'll be occupying the living room space with each other more than their own rooms, anyway.

It's only a little bit awkward at first with trying to figure out the bathroom schedules, but besides that everything is smooth in terms of living together. They spend most of their time in the practice room during the day and go home together at night, all equally as exhausted. They play games together in what rare free time they get, and they joke around and go to fun places. It reminds Rosé of her own friends back home.

One morning, however, Rosé finds herself completely dumbstruck.

She already knows from their very first meeting in the elevator that Lisa never likes to hide her soul marks. They're always on full display, usually consisting of badly drawn doodles and the occasional neat Hangul. Judging by both of those adjectives, it's obviously Lisa's. In fact, Rosé isn't quite sure if she's ever even seen something that was noticeably different to Lisa's recognizable scrawl. Perhaps she was just wrong in her judgement, she figured.

Either way, Rosé has already grown used to not seeing the marks as often anymore in her daily life and so you couldn't really blame her for finding her unspoken-of and unusual liking towards them a bit intriguing. And when her curiosity grew too high, she still didn't asked about it. She couldn't muster up enough courage. Instead, Lisa had been the one to bring it up after catching Rosé gaze on her latest creation.

"Everyone else around here likes to hide them, is all," Rosé had said bashfully, trying to cover up for herself under the amused gaze of Lisa. Rosé didn't ask a question that time, but the Lisa gratefully understood.

But instead of answering with a lonf and meaningful description about her soulmate or whatever like Rosé had expected from someone who seemed to like her soul marks that much, she had merely replied with, "Why should I have to hide something that means so much to me? That's silly, Chaeng."

And that was that, she never went into anymore depth. But even still, Rosé would catch her every now and then with a pen in hand, doodling more pictures on herself or writing corny jokes that usually Jisoo had taught her that reminded Rosé of her own soulmate. Not this Jisoo, but her other Jisoo. Whoever that is.

However, those instances only served to confuse Rosé further. She had seen the marks up close, and even from a distance she can recognize Lisa's neat handwriting and cute cat drawings. There seemed to be no other marks besides her own, so why did Lisa spend so much time writing to someone who didn't write back?

And then she remembered her own case three years ago before she left for Korea where Jisoo had inexplicably stopped talking to her as much and left Rosé still desperately scrambling after him and the loose pieces of their conversations. She remembered it oh, so vividly and humiliatingly, and immediately shut up about it. Until now.

In the past few years Rosé has known her, Jennie has  _never_  left  _any_  marks visible on her skin during practice. Even when they would be dripping with sweat during a particularly exhausting session that day, her skin still remained perfectly clear of any blemishes. Jennie Kim was all about perfection, and Rosé even idolized her a bit for it. But looking back on it now, Rosé realizes, that was actually an amazing feat of her.

Because as Rosé pads around the kitchen barefoot with her face newly washed and teeth just as recently brushed to pour herself a glass of orange juice, the bathroom door opens and Jennie emerges, fresh from a morning shower. It's not really new; according to the bathroom schedule they've finally established Jennie always takes the first shower in the morning and Rosé has heard the running water every day before around this same time. However, this is the first time the younger girl has actually been out of her room in time in the morning to see her come out of the bathroom after it.

It isn't that big of a deal and Rosé glances at her vaguely over the rim of her glass as she takes a slow sip. Jennie's hair is damp, all clumped together in wet, wavy locks and she bends over slight to let it fall over her head so that she can use the towel in her hand to ruffle it dry. She stands still for a quiet moment in the hallway doing just that and is dressed in only a tank top and shorts, an outfit that shows off a lot of skin, but, again, isn't something new to Rosé. 

Well, it  _shouldn't_  have been, and yet it is for that reason that Rosé nearly starts choking on her juice when she — for the first time  _ever_ — catches the  _very visible_  black marks on Jennie's arms and legs. There's actually so many of them that Rosé can only think  _damn, whatever concealer she has been using must be pretty damn good._

Jennie hasn't even noticed her standing there yet, and Rosé is too stunned to say anything. But then the door to her and Lisa's room swings open and the disheveled girl appears in the hallway a moment later, yawning widely.

"Morning, Chaeyoung," she chirps after having rubbed the sleep away from her eyes. She spots Jennie as she walks into the kitchen and immediately lights up, exclaiming, "Jennie-unnie!"

"Lisa, it's too early for this," the shorter girl grumbles, though the small smile on her lips betrays her irritated tone. Rosé still hasn't said anything, too perplexed by the newfound discovery at Jennie's very present and very real soul marks. But with Lisa standing there she begins to think Jennie's marks look  _very_  familiar. Slowly, she drags her eyes over to the blonde.

Then she freezes. She looks back at Jennie's. Then back at Lisa's. Jennie's. Lisa's.

_They have the same fucking marks._

Lisa, having noticed Rosé's silence, follows her eyes. Then her eyes widen comically and she nearly doubles over in laughter.

Jennie jumps, nearly dropping anf breaking a glass she had been reaching for in her surprise and whirls back around, ready to smack Lisa upside the head for startling her. That is, until she finally sees the expression on Rosé's face. It takes Jennie a moment to connect the dots, but when she does her eyes also widen and she tries in vain to cover up the marks on her skin by crossing her arms and legs and standing in what must be the most awkward-looking pose ever. It's no use, Rosé has already seen them. Her eyebrows are raised high up on her forehead, her cheeks completely dusted red, and the tips of her ears burning.

"Oh, c'mon, unnie," Lisa giggles, pulling an embarrassed Jennie into her arms. She wriggles her hands between the other girl's arms to uncross them, and then wraps her own around her torso in a familiar backhug. "She was bound to find out eventually."

"Wait, wait," Rosé breathes out, completely flustered, "so you two are..."

She trails off, doesn't finish and therefore doesn't actually ask any questions. But Lisa, as excited as she is, answers for her anyway in the form of an enthusiastic nod. The blonde squashes her cheek against the side of Jennie's head, nuzzling into her brown hair with a wide smile on her face.

"Jennie-unnie's my  _soulmate_ ," she sings happily. Jennie only huffs.

 

* * *

 

Even over breakfast, the revelation hasn't yet completely sunk in for Rosé. It makes sense, though, judging on how Lisa has always been more clingy with Jennie than anyone else. Jennie has always made a show of cringing and pushing her away, but a smile was always there, hidden behind her typical stoic mask. Looking back on it all, it all should have added up. And she always thought the two were super cute, so she's definitely happy for them. Jenlisa for the win.

And also, after all the "excitement" from this morning, Rosé suddenly finds herself suddenly feeling the need to check the only currently-sleeping group member for any unknown marks she has never seen on her as well (which is totally not weird at all). Honestly though, this is definitely not the first time Rosé has felt such an urge ever since she met the older girl, but is a habit she has been trying to break. It's hard every time she sees Jisoo walk in the room wearing an outfit that shows any amount of her fair skin, but she tries.

As if reading her mind, Jisoo wakes up tired and grumpy not too long after from the amount of noise they — mostly meaning Lisa — had been making. She strolls out of her room in a fashion similar to Lisa, yawning and rubbing her eyes.But before Rosé can give in to her temptations, Jennie's calling out for breakfast requests and Lisa's throwing Jisoo's screeching frame over her shoulder. The sudden chaos of her bandmates is more than enough of an adequate distraction.

They eat in a somewhat awkward quiet, though it's mostly on Jennie and Rosé's part. For Lisa, she couldn't be anymore happier at the reveal since she could now shower all of her love upon Jennie to her heart's content (not like she hasn't already been doing that) and apparently, Jisoo has already long since known.

"I saw her naked a couple times, you know," she quips as an explanation, and Lisa pouts at her.

Beneath the table, Rosé runs her hand over the fresh mark on her thigh _her Jisoo_  had put there while she was sleeping last night. Like many times before, she wonders what her own soulmate is doing right now, and where he is. And, like a few times more recently now than ever before, she wonders if  _he_  is actually a  _she_  and if he or if  _she_  is actually sitting besides her now, looking at her softly (although unbeknownst to herself).

Just in case, Rosé sneaks a glance at Jisoo's leg later when she gets up to feed her new puppy, Dalgom. She sees nothing; just smooth, pale skin.

Oh, well. Bummer.

 

* * *

 

She's not being creepy on purpose, Rosé swears she's not.

But for some reason, she can't seem to stop  _checking Jisoo out_.

Wait, she doesn't mean, like,  _checking her out_  checking her out. She's not staring at her ass and thinking about how much would totally tap that, of course. Definitely not that. Probably. Kind of. Maybe sometimes. Stop, Roseanne, no.

Anyway, she's fairly certain that this Jisoo isn't  _her_  Jisoo. After all, it's already been a year since they've been living together, and three since they met. And never, ever had she seen a single speck of ink on the girl's skin. Considering how she had managed to catch Jennie's not too far into them living together (and the girl is amazing at hiding them, she found out), that must mean something if she hasn't found the eldest's. During the first two years living separately, she had figured that maybe the girl just didn't have a soulmate. But then again, she also thought that about Jennie until that ultimately came back to punch her in the face, so.

If she does have marks, the girl must be pretty damn good at hiding them. Now that they're living together, Rosé thinks that she would've found out if Jisoo had marks by now. And it also poses the question of  _why?_  She seems to be trying really hard to hide them, if they are there. But maybe she's just wasting her time, being all weird by searching for what isn't there. She's not obsessed.

But even now as she sits in the living room with Lisa and presses play on the third episode in a row of their drama that night, she can't stop her head from immediately turning when she hears a door open behind her. Lisa pays no mind to it, but Rosé's eyes immediately meet with Jisoo's and it's a silent clash of brown versus brown. Jisoo proceeds to walk down the hallway barefoot with her night clothes, a bag of which Rosé assumes is her skin care products, and a towel in her hands, all while seemingly not as affected by the split-second eye contact as Rosé feels she herself is. She quickly manages to force her eyes back to the TV screen, but still perks her ears to pick up the exact moment when the bathroom door clicks shut behind Jisoo.

She ends up wasting almost the entire hour of the episode paying attention to only the noise of the running water behind her. She blocks out all other noise in favor of listening for when the water finally stops, listening for the small clattering of soap bottles between rinses, and listening, especially, for the moment when the door opens again. She knows Jisoo takes long showers, and it isn't until they're three quarters of the way through the episode when she finally emerges. Rosé's _not obsessed._

She plops down on the couch right beside Rosé, shouting out some weird word she's made up in the form of a greeting. Lisa giggles and shushes her, but all Rosé can comprehend is that fact that she's now sitting so close to her that she can feel the older girl's body against her arm even though there's more than enough room for her to move over.  _Whatever,_  Rosé thinks to herself, trying to brush off the sudden flutter of her heart and the tingly feeling in her arm where she feels Jisoo's skin touch hers. She knows the four of them usually all like to sit closer together than normal, and doesn't dare to take her eyes off the screen she isn't actually watching.

But of course, she does. Her eyes flick to her right when she's sure Jisoo is only paying attention to the show, and she takes a moment to study her pretty features post-shower. Jisoo's hair is mostly dried now save for the ends and she's wearing a t-shirt that's way too big on her, her shorts barely even peeking beneath the hem. Thanks to this, a wide expanse of her flawless skin is out for show and so Rosé goes through her typical routine of trailing her eyes up and down the other's forearms and legs in hopes of finding the blue marks she knows she has deliberately left on her own for this very chance.

But like always, there's nothing there.

And also like always, there's always the lingering thoughts afterwards. First, there's the shame in herself for even searching still, and second, there's the shame in herself for even wanting, wishing for  _this_  Jisoo to be  _her_  Jisoo. Really though, the four girls are all close enough now that Rosé could,  _should_  just ask her.

But she does what she does best, and doesn't.

Then, she feels Jisoo's breath suddenly hitting her ear and she jumps when she whispers, "So, what's going on in this episode?" Despite intending it forRosé to hear only, she speaks a little too loudly that from Rosé's other side the younger girl bets Lisa could probably hear her question anyway. She turns her head, swallowing thickly when she suddenly finds Jisoo's head so close to her own.

"Huh?"

"Like, why's she crying?"

"Uh..." Obviously, Rosé, who doesn't even know the answer herself, has no clue how to respond. Even more so with Jisoo's cheek pressed against her shoulder.

Thankfully, Lisa (who did indeed hear) leaps in with her own quick recap when Rosé takes more than a couple seconds to answer. She sighs. She's definitely gonna have to re-watch this episode later.

 

* * *

 

Finally, Rosé realizes that she's tired of this.

She's done it her whole life; waited for answers to come to her and suffered more when they didn't. But now, it's different. This isn't just some life lesson she will eventually come to learn on her own that she's willing to wait for. This is different, and this time she doesn't want to wait. She's sick of waiting. She's sick of herself.

She decides this one night when there's no one else home but them — just her and Jisoo.

Jennie and Lisa aren't home, having earlier announced plans to go shopping together. They had left about two hours ago and knowing them, Rosé estimates that they won't be back for at least another few hours. It's much too quiet at home, especially without Lisa, but most of the time it's a peaceful quiet. Tonight, though, Rosé thinks it feels stifling.

It's an early December day where the sun typically decides to set a lot earlier than it does in the summer, and darkness floods the hallways and corners of their dorm even though it's only slightly past evening. The only lights they have on come from underneath Jisoo's bedroom door, the kitchen, and the TV that Rosé has on, set to a low volume as to not disturb the current stillness of the dorm. She has already gotten ready for bed, her face freshly washed and confining bra thankfully discarded in favor of an old, comfy t-shirt from her cheerleading team back in Australia and a pair of mismatching shorts. But instead of retreating to the even more seclusion of her own room, she chooses to wrap herself in a thick blanket and sit besides Dalgom and Kuma on the couch. She has already decided on spending tonight following through with her earlier plans to re-watch the episode she missed and starts doing exactly that.

But then Jisoo's door opens again and out comes said girl herself.

"Where's Dalgom?" She asks, but stops short when she finds him curled up snugly against Rosé's leg. She smiles at the sight, but the other girl isn't looking. Or, forcing herself not to look.

"Here," Rosé mumbles in response anyway. She still doesn't divert her attention away from the screen, pretending to be completely interested in what's on it, and instead pulls the blanket up further so that it's covering the lower half of her slowly burning face.

"Didn't you watch this episode already, Chaeyoung?" She feels the couch plunge with Jisoo's weight besides her, and the brunette pulls Rosé's blanket over herself uninvited (though not unwelcomed) and places Dalgom atop of it in her lap instead. She drops her head onto Rosé's shoulder like she had the other day, and it's suddenly much, much warmer.

"I wasn't paying much attention that time," she answers truthfully. She hears her voice come out slightly gruff, and clears her throat as she feels the heat rise even faster to her cheeks. Jisoo cocks her head.

"You weren't? You seemed pretty focused."

"Well, I wasn't."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

And that did it, because Rosé isn't really one to lie and this time isn't going to be an exception.

"Because of  _you._ " 

Jisoo instantly pulls away from Rosé, eyebrows raised, and stares at her in shock. Rosé swallows the lump in her throat and continues anyway, not missing another beat, "you distracted me."

"Wh-What? Me? How?" Jisoo almost looks a bit offended and entirely flabbergasted.

"Unnie," Rosé starts slowly, pausing to think through her next words carefully. She also figures that she's just bound to have to watch this episode over and over again forever, isn't she? With her next words, there's no way she is gonna be able to pay attention to it anymore, at least not for the rest of the night. Her voice gets stuck in her throat, her palms growing sweaty from where they are gripping the blanket tightly in front of her face, and her eyes are starting to burn from the brightness of the TV. She clears her throat and swallows down her fears again, willing herself to breathe. Finally, she asks, "do you have a soulmate?"

It feels nice after all these years to finally allow herself to just  _ask_. But the feeling only lasts for a millisecond, because Jisoo isn't answering and Rosé is starting to regret it very quickly. Eventually after what feels like hours, Jisoo looks away from her and her lips part to drag in a single slow breath that leaves Rosé feeling even more anxious.

"Yeah," she answers, her voice low.

"You do?" Rosé is understandably shocked. She's spent the last few years embarrassingly searching for just a single mark on her, drawing more roses in blue on her thigh in hopes that this Jisoo would be the same Jisoo that's receiving them and with this exact thought she savors the animals that would appear besides it in purple. She never bothered to cover them, and again hoped that Jisoo would catch the ink during any of their dance lessons peeking from beneath purposefully-chosen short-shorts. She never did — at least, never seemed to — but Rosé could never really bring herself to accept that Jisoo didn't have a soulmate. Or perhaps she just couldn't accept that Jisoo did have a soulmate, it just wasn't her.

Now, she feels her loudly beating heart drop from her chest for a theory she's tried so hard to suppress.

 _Perhaps, it really_ isn't _me._

Jisoo stays silent, and Rosé lowers her gaze when she starts to feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She blinks hard, hating herself for crying and hating herself for asking. But then, she feels fingertips softly guiding her chin back up and stares with wide, watery eyes back into Jisoo's gentle, caring ones.

"Chaeng, you're such a crybaby," she teases, and Rosé feels her lips tug downwards even more in a quivering pout. Then, Jisoo pulls back only slightly and wraps her fingers around Rosé's wrist, lifting it to her eye level. She's smiling, and Rosé's confusion only grows when Jisoo reaches over to the table next to the couch to wrap around a pen.  _Black ink_ , Rosé thinks dejectedly, but it's all they have and for Jisoo, it'll do.

She turns Rosé's wrist slightly towards herself and starts to write. It's hard for Rosé to try and make out the words with only the TV light to illuminate it, but she only has to wait another long, agonizing minute. Jisoo pulls back, releases the younger girl's wrist, and grins at her.

When she reads the words, Rosé freezes, mouth falling agape and heart instantly stopping.

_Dear Chaeyoung,_

_I love you._

_From, Jisoo_ _(aka Chichyu)_

The final, all-too-familiar words between the parenthesis is nearly enough to shatter any last bit of self control Rosé has to not burst into tears then and there. She stares at it, speechless, until her eyes water with the need to blink again. Then, it waters just from the sheer emotions coursing through her.

When she lifts her eyes back to Jisoo's, her heart restarts itself with the same girl that had managed to stop it, jumping straight back from her stomach all the way to her throat. Then, Jisoo lifts her own wrist to show, and Rosé watches as the words start to appear slowly over her skin. It's like magic — no, it  _is_  magic, and Rosé has always loved watching the words appear.

But then, a realization comes crashing through her racing mind. 

"Wait, wait," Rosé breathes out weakly, shaking her head. "Unnie, you... you  _knew?"_

"Oh, yeah. About that," she starts to say, suddenly growing sheepish, "yeah, I did. Actually, I've known since that first night Jennie told me your name. There's not really a lot of 'Roseannes' around here, you know. And also," Jisoo's fingers twitch in her own lap restlessly, and she brings them up to lightly trace the mark she just left on Rosé's wrist, "you never really took a lot of care in hiding your marks, Chaengie."

"But you did," she counters with a slight edge to her tone that surprises both girls. Regardless, Rosé continues, her soft voice picking up almost to the point of ranting, "and you knew. I always had a feeling it was you, you know? So I put the marks in obvious spots, Jisoo, and yet I never saw them. I thought that you probably didn't have a soulmate, or even worse, you had one that wasn't me when really, you were just going the extra mile to cover it.

"These thoughts, Jisoo," Rosé feels a tear slip down her cheek, and Jisoo stares at her silently with regret written all over her own face, "they hurt. Especially now that I know the truth. Because I..." she pauses, and takes a shaky breath, "I really like you. And you knew, yet you ignored me."

"I'm sorry," Jisoo murmurs, voice shaky but sincere as she moves her fingers down from Rosé's forearm to weave their fingers together instead. "I'm really sorry, Chaeyoung. It's just, you came into the company all those years ago looking so cute and determined to chase after your dreams, and I know how you would always stay really late just to practice and wake up after only, like, four hours of sleep just to catch up with me and the other girls. You still even do that. You have such big dreams and goals, Chaeng, and I didn't want these marks getting in the way of that." She drops her voice even lower, and Rosé can just barely make out her next few words over the low sounds of the TV still playing in the back. "I didn't want  _me_  getting in the way of that," she finishes with a whisper.

It's quiet again, and Rosé feels another few tears slip down her cheek. But this time, it's different. She's not crying because she's sad, she's crying because she just loves Jisoo Kim so. Damn. Much.

And until now, she has never even let herself acknowledge those words for a girl she wasn't even sure would love her back. Now she knows, because written on her wrist and everything else that had long since faded before it is proof that Jisoo Kim really does love her back.

Jisoo, however, takes her crying in the opposite way and immediately surges forward in her panic to wipe away the wet tracks on the taller girl's undeniably cute, pudgy cheeks with her thumbs.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry. Chaengie, please don't cry anymore, I really, truly,  _honestly_  am sorry," she rushes out all in one breath, apologies falling profusely from her lips in an almost unintelligible jumble. Her fingers are gentle against her skin, cupping the sides of Rosé's face so tenderly that she feels her heart swell in her chest with complete adoration and joy. It's a rare occurrence, Rosé knows, for Jisoo to ever be anything but jokes and smiles and yet here she is, nearly breaking apart before her at the sight of Rosé crying.

Despite how adorable Jisoo looks with her bottom lip jutting out in a pout and her eyebrows knitted together as she focuses on only trying to stop the streams of tears from falling any further down the younger girl's cheeks, Rosé can't sit still any longer.

Sucking in a deep breath, she shifts in her seat and fully turns her body towards Jisoo, catching her wrists in her hands. Immediately, Jisoo's stills, and she watches in breathless amazement as Rosé takes the time to slowly press her lips to each of the pads of her fingers. She places one last kiss on Jisoo's right pinky-finger, all the while keeping her eyes locked with hers. Then, she leans forward, summoning all the courage she has left in her body to speak her next words:

"Jisoo, can I kiss you?"

It's faint, but it's there. All other noises seem to have long since faded for the two girls, and all they can hear are the soft breaths of the other. Then, Jisoo takes a deep breath.

"...Yes."

It's almost magnetic, how their lips seem to come together after Jisoo's answer. The air around them electrifies immediately, and Rosé melts as she feels Jisoo's lips move softly against hers. She has always loved how Jisoo makes sure to treat only her with the utmost care compared the others, and now is no exception. She feels Jisoo's fingers brushing over the sides of her face and in turn she wraps her arms around Jisoo's neck, pulling the shorter girl as close as possible.

It's the best feeling ever, with the only exception being their uncomfortable seating positions. Jisoo's body is twisted awkwardly in her seat, and Rosé's legs are crossed between them, cutting off any further body contact and making it so that they are forced to lean their upper bodies forward. However, both girls are too engrossed in each other to even care to move, afraid that if they do then all this will come to an end. 

But as if he understood, Dalgom willingly jumps down from Jisoo's lap. She finally forces her lips away from Rosé's for the both of them to be able to drag in some much needed air, their breaths heavy. She uses this mutual break to shift in her place, her back sinking into the plush cushions of their couch as she drops her hands to the other's waist and tugs. Rosé blushes even harder once she understands what Jisoo wants her to do, but nevertheless complies, climbing over into her lap. She has to admit — it's a lot more comfortable here than it was before.

Jisoo grins, laughing at Rosé's flustered expression and presses a loving kiss against the corner of her lips. Rosé pouts, weakly pushing at her shoulder.

"Unnie, stop laughing at me," she whines, which only makes Jisoo laugh even harder.

"Alright, alright," she concedes when Rosé shoves her again, cupping her face and bringing it back to her own. She can't stop smiling against Rosé's lips, and the other girl can't help but do the same, the pair giggling in between short kisses.

Some time later, they both finally agree to break apart to catch their breath and get some water. Their smiles never die down, even with their chilled beverages against their lips. There's a happy sort of giddiness in both of them that, ever since their first kiss, seems as though it has no intention of lessening.

They both return to the couch, this time settling in with Jisoo's arm wrapped around Rosé's waist and her back fitted tightly against Jisoo's front. It's a little funny considering Jisoo is the shortest of the bunch and Rosé is the tallest, but the former had insisted and with that cute face there's no way Rosé could ever say no to her. 

(It's also because Jisoo had agreed to let her be the big spoon  _next time,_ meaning that there's definitely gonna be a next time and the thought of that makes Rosé more excited than anything else.)

The blanket is thrown over their lower halves as the two dogs sleep on the carpet below them, and they watch Frozen together for maybe the hundredth time in a peaceful quiet with content smiles on both of their faces. 

They're only about a quarter of the way into the movie when Jisoo starts to feel her eyelids flutter and sleep creeping over her. Just before she falls into a comfortable slumber, however, a sweet voice she knows can only belong to Rosépulls her back.

"Jisoo?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you, too."

Jisoo's smile grows impossibly bigger, and she tightens her hold on Rosé as she presses one last lingering kiss to her hair. Together, as they both fall asleep with "I love yous" on their lips and written on their wrists, neither girl can think of anything better in the world right now.

Because for Rosé, her Jisoo is finally _her Jisoo,_ and for Jisoo, she has finally got the girl she is destined to be with. But even during all those years, they had long since expressed their love from the moment they wrote each other's names on their wrists through Jisoo's purple Pikachus and Rosé's blue roses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, y'all, it's the "end" lol it's been wild
> 
> i wrote such long chapters that i should've honestly just split into smaller ones because then i could have ended up with maybe six chapters but oh well. keep in mind that this was meant to be a one-shot lmao im crazy.
> 
> and im actually not at all pleased with the ending as i had started to lose ideas and motivation for it, but i hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless
> 
> see ya next time
> 
> (p.s. i've been on break since wednesday for thanskgiving and im not at all prepared to go back tomorrow please help me junior year is toRTurE)


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